


don't you (forget about me)

by fickleminder



Category: Bumblebee (2018), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Reunion Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 13:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17225285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fickleminder/pseuds/fickleminder
Summary: Technically she isn’t cleared for any of this, but clearance doesn’t mean shit when a giant alien robot drops to its knees to cradle a tiny human while chirping and cooing and “Hello Charlie, I’ve missed you.”





	don't you (forget about me)

**Author's Note:**

> I like to pretend that everything in Revenge of the Fallen and after never happened so just let me have my happy ending with Charlie and Bumblebee at the end of the 2007 film kthxbye.

Officially, his last assignment is to wrap up the case in Brighton Falls, to remind an innocent civilian family – their only crime, according to his report, the misfortune of purchasing the wrong car, of being _deceived_ like everybody else – that if anything of mechanical alien nature occurs they are to call immediately, and to provide assurance that Sector Seven will be watching out for them.

He follows his orders to the letter of course, but unofficially, he also pulls aside the teenage daughter of that unlucky family with a warning.

It’s not ‘be careful’, because they both know that Sector Seven will always be watching them now. Nothing ever escapes their radar, not giant robots who almost invaded Earth, and certainly not civilians who have had prolonged contact with them, intentionally or otherwise. Bumblebee is gone, out of her life, and it is for the best that it stays that way.

It’s not ‘don’t tell anyone’ either, because she’s a smart girl and that goes without saying. Trust is a dangerous thing; you don’t give it to those who call themselves _Decepticons_ , who slip from Friend Powell to Human Powell as seamlessly as they shift forms and lie and manipulate, or to those who use people like pieces on a chessboard and uproot them to Nevada without any warning. The briefing details are classified (personally he thinks his new director should have stayed in the Arctic where cold-hearted bastards like him belong), but it’s pretty clear why only he and the surviving members of his unit have been transferred.

“He’s not the first,” Jack Burns says, and that’s the last time Charlie Watson ever hears from him.

 

* * *

 

Life goes on.

 

* * *

 

She heals with time.

Like her father, Bumblebee leaves a hole in her heart that while no repaired convertible can fill, music comes to soothe. His spot in the garage stays empty, a gaping reminder of his absence. She’s gotten him this far; her chapter in his story is over, and letting him go had been the right thing to do. Knowing this doesn’t make their separation any easier or her miss him any less, but it helps.

In return, Bumblebee had given her back herself, her family, and even Memo (though she suspects he’s always been close by, just shyly out of reach). It’s more than she has ever dreamed of, especially while trapped in the shadow of her father’s death. This gift of hope, of redemption and a brand new start, she intends to make the most out of it.

She quits her deep-frying job and goes to college. She finds new friends and gets an apprenticeship at a mechanics. She keeps in touch with her family and lets Memo hold her hand on dates. She drives her convertible every day and maintains it perfectly. She listens to the radio and occasionally sends song dedications to Beatrices, Biancas and Billys. She wishes on the brightest stars in the night sky and prays for safety, for friendship, and for remembrance.

Charlie moves on, and she is happy.

 

* * *

 

“First impressions are one thing, but don’t let fear and prejudice blind you,” his mentor once says, something hidden in his words just begging to be heard. “There’s more to them than meets the eye.”

Seymour believes him. He believes in his work, believes he can tell right from wrong, good from bad, believes he is protecting humanity from the aliens who would squish them like insects without a second thought.

He believes until his mentor gives his life to launch a rocket into space. Only a junior agent at the time, all he knows is that there had been an attack, Burns and his unit were deployed to hold the line, and nobody came back from that mission.

Then he understands: not one of those machines can be trusted, ever.

 

* * *

 

Another story starts with a pair of glasses on eBay, but it doesn’t quite end with a jagged shard from a metal cube.

 

* * *

 

The bureaucracy is good, but social media is better.

Otis bombards her with blurry videos and Internet forums raving about terrorist attacks and military experiments, but it isn’t until the term ‘giant robots’ crops up that she starts paying attention. Memo does some digging (bless his doctorate in computer science) and they learn about the jets that burst out of Hoover Dam and the walking vending machine in Mission City.

She cries a little when she catches flashes of yellow on the screen, moving too fast on the back of a tow truck for the cameras to track. There isn’t anything remotely resembling parts of a 1977 Camaro among the piles of debris, and for that she is grateful. While Otis and Memo whisper loudly somewhere behind her, Charlie’s heart is racing a million miles an hour. She has plenty of vacation days backed up, Mission City is only two states away, and Memo certainly won’t mind watching the kids for a while – forget the rational part of her brain arguing that there won’t be anything left by the time she gets there, knowing first-hand just how thorough government cover-ups can be.

Then her doorbell rings.

 

* * *

 

“Old friend. Not mine, the yellow one.”

Obnoxious son of a bitch he may be, but he likes to think his mother raised him properly. If he’s done wrong, then he’d damn well set things right or she’ll butcher him with the knives she makes a living with. That being said, it may or may not have to do with a deleted file scavenged from the ashes of Sector Seven, heavily encrypted by one Agent Burns and detailing what really went down in Brighton Falls twenty years ago. It’s enough to make a cynical man believe again.

“If you think this changes anything –”

“Not even close. I just figured I owed the kid for putting his car into cryostasis,” Simmons huffs, studiously ignoring the horrified looks from the woman next to him.

Lennox sighs, but ushers her into a black GMC Topkick with soft tones and reassuring words. He sees her mouth the name of a certain scout, trembling with anticipation, and the Topkick’s engine rumbles gently in response.

Simmons turns to disappear like the dramatic ex-agent he is, but not before the Captain surprises him with a firm handshake.

 

* * *

 

There’s more of them now, the good guys; she vaguely recognizes the tall blue and red one, though he’s less blocky than she remembers. Lennox walks her into a hanger with several in towering bipedal forms, completely at ease. He releases the light grip on her elbow and she’s off, breaking into a sprint towards the yellow mech lounging in a corner – trilling loudly in exclamation and hurriedly nudging off the two teenagers resting against his legs – with a hiccupping sob.

Technically she isn’t cleared for any of this, but clearance doesn’t mean shit when a giant alien robot drops to its knees to cradle a tiny human while chirping and cooing and “Hello Charlie, I’ve missed you.”

Nearby, the other Autobots back away to give them some privacy, while Mikaela smacks Sam on the arm when he starts blabbering in confusion. None of them are paid any attention though, so it’s all good.

Charlie Watson is happy, but now she is whole, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
